Loud Neighbour

⌞ 𓍊𓋼"Gyutaro"𓋼𓍊 ⌝

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʏ/ɴ!
⫘⫘⫘⫘

The dim light of dawn crept through the dirty windowpanes of Gyutaro's ramshackle apartment, illuminating the chaotic tangle of his life. His pale blue eyes, bloodshot and clouded with exhaustion, flickered open as the incessant murmurs of the waking city outside invaded his already fractured world. He lay sprawled on the tattered floor, remnants of his most recent night spent spinning deals and dodging the ever-growing legions of law enforcement that seemed to haunt him like shadows.

Sitting up, he grimaced at the familiar ache in his bones and the dull throb behind his temples. Gyutaro glanced at himself in a cracked mirror, where he could barely recognize the disheveled figure staring back. His unruly black hair, streaked with vibrant lime green, fell haphazardly across his forehead, framing a face both weary and defiant. He ran a hand through the thorns of his hair, attempting to tame it, but the effort felt futile. Missing and uneven teeth greeted him as he forced a smile, a grimace more than anything else.

Outside, the sounds of life resumed their regular pace. The raucous laughter of children mingled with the distant honking of cars and the chatter of neighbors going about their mundane lives. He clenched his jaw, irritation bubbling within him. The spirit of the place was suffocating, despite its vibrancy - he hated it. He loathed the carefree nature of everyone around him, the way they seemed to glide through their days without a care.

That's when he heard it - the sharp, rhythmic pounding on his wall, resonant and persistent. Y/N, his stunning neighbor from next door, was at it again. How could she sleep in this raucous mess? She had a voice like honey dipped in poison and a beauty that drew unwanted attention. He hated her for it, but more than that, he hated that she was the only person who seemed to notice the noise beyond her own annoyance.

"Gyutaro!" came her voice, laced with frustration. "Can you keep it down over there? Some of us are trying to sleep!"

Gyutaro gritted his teeth. It was always the same song. He could never understand how she remained so calm. In a life like his, where trust was a luxury, he found it downright infuriating. She was soft and gentle, while he had built walls layered with contempt. "Then go sleep somewhere else!" he shouted back, despite her requesting nothing more than some peace while he was busy conducting his business.

A moment of silence passed, and he half-believed that she had given up. But then, to his dismay, the knocking continued more furiously. "I can hear you, Gyutaro!"

His fingers curled into fists, his body tensing with rage. How many times had he told her to look the other way? They didn't belong in the same world, after all. She was everything he despised-kind, hopeful, and ignorant to the darkness he harbored. And yet, despite the odds, he found himself drawn to her like iron to a magnet.

With each thud of her hand against his wall, frustration warred with an inexplicable longing within him. She shouldn't care. No one else did. He pushed himself up and shuffled to the door, snatching a piece of clothing that scarcely resembled a kimono and slid it over his shoulders. The thin fabric hung off his frame, dirty and threadbare, much like the remnants of his self-respect.

Without thinking, he flung the door open, the hinges squealing in protest. There she stood, a vision of vibrant life surrounded by the colorlessness of his existence. Before he could focus on the angry words that danced on her tongue, he caught sight of her eyes, ablaze with determination.

"Listen, Gyutaro," she said, her tone softening, "I know you have your life, and that's yours to live. But if we're going to be neighbors, can you please keep it down? Just...for a little while?"

He stared at her, caught momentarily in her gaze that seemed to peer into the depths of his darkened soul. And for an infinitesimal second, he wanted to lower his guard, to shed the resentment he had for the world that continued to hurt him. But the moment passed as quickly as it had come, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable.